by Kim Redford
Chapter 8
Sydney felt as if she’d been doused with cold water by Dune’s words. Passion Pit? She’d felt something special, while he’d obviously only been looking for a good time. Well, she’d asked for it. He’d said he simply wanted to have fun. She’d agreed—until he’d made her want so much more with that single, slow dance to heartrending, heart-mending music. And now?
She wasn’t a basketball player, barrel racer, and rancher for nothing. If the game he played wasn’t for keeps, then she knew exactly how to play it. They were both better off that way. She could tease and torment with the best of Texas women to keep her feelings deep in the dark for protection’s sake. If fun was the name of the game, she could handle it, because she now realized that she deserved to enjoy herself in a way she hadn’t in a long, lonely time.
But for now, she needed to be practical. She’d had a lot of practice at it. She forced a chuckle between her lips, pushed out of his arms, and stepped back. She didn’t look into his eyes, afraid of what she might see there—good or bad—because she wanted her fantasy of happily-ever-after to stay true for a moment longer.
But he didn’t move either, as if he was clinging to the spell the music had cast around them. Finally, he cleared his throat as he stood facing her, arms hanging loose at his sides.
She was vitally aware of him, as if she were tied to him by an invisible rope, so that he couldn’t make a move that she wouldn’t follow.
Finally, he balled his hands into fists, turned on the parquet floor, walked over to the jukebox, gripped its sides with both hands, and slowly leaned over to examine the contents.
She watched his every movement until she saw his face appear reflected in the clear plastic cover of the jukebox’s top. What she saw made her heart speed up. No matter his words, he was no less affected than she’d been by their dance. Was he being a strong Texas male carrying the burden for two without words, without emotion, without help? She shivered at her insight into his character, but she wished he’d let her help with a decision that affected both of them.
And yet he was right to back off and make light of their dance. She didn’t resent or question his action. She understood only too well. They had an important job to do, and they couldn’t allow distractions such as personal attraction get in the way of Christmas. Maybe after Sure-Shot’s event was all said and done, they could pick up where they’d left off, or maybe by then whatever was between them would have disappeared into the sunset much as an unneeded, unwanted, unfulfilled dream that never reached reality.
She took a deep breath. “Looks like we christened the Passion Pit with our dance.”
He glanced over at her, a slight smile tugging at his full lips. “This old music sure knows how to—”
“Yeah. It’s all about the music.”
“Right.”
She smiled back at him, knowing the movement didn’t reach her eyes any more than his smile reached his gaze. They were both stretching the truth to the breaking point and knew it, but if it helped them get past this awkward moment, she was all for it. “I guess we ought to make plans for the calendar.”
“Guess so.”
“And Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In.”
He nodded as he turned away from the jukebox. “Other than food, this place looks ready to roll.”
“You really like it?”
He smiled, and this time his blue eyes lit up with pleasure. “What’s not to like? It ought to be a big hit.”
“I hope so.” She glanced up at the Sputnik chandelier. “Bert and Bert Two put a lot of time, energy, and money into the place.”
“They appear to be upstanding citizens of the county.”
She heard the query in his voice, even if he didn’t voice it. “I know some folks around here question if they’ve been torching their own properties for the insurance money, but this proves they’re not the arsonists.”
“How so?”
She spread her arms wide to encompass the snack shed. “If they were going to burn down this place, they’d have done it before they invested so much in rebuilding it.”
“It’s worth more now.”
She pointed at the chandelier. “They’d never get their money or time back. Bert told me they hunted down all sorts of retro pieces for authenticity. We’d probably miss them at first glance.”
He looked around, nodding in agreement. “I’m just stating what I’ve heard around town. I’ve got no opinion one way or another. I’m the new kid on the block, so I don’t know history here. But I still think security ought to be high on our list of things to check out.”
“Okay. I’m with you on that one.”
“Good. Now what comes next?”
“I guess we’d better focus on the calendar first.” She walked over to an aqua booth, slid across the vinyl to sit down, and opened her purse.
“You got a list in there or something?” he asked as he sat down across from her.
She pulled out her cell phone and called up notes to start a list. “I’m putting you down for December in the Cadillac.”
“It’s your call, but isn’t this a firefighter calendar?”
She set down her phone and looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t there be some firefighter stuff in the pictures. I don’t know, but maybe gear or rigs or stations.”
She gave a big sigh, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I guess I’ve been so focused on Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In that I stopped thinking about cowboys as firefighters. Besides, they’ve given me such a runaround that I’m trying to think out of the box.”
“But aren’t cowboy firefighters the point of the calendar?”
“Of course they are,” she snapped, feeling as if she’d lost ground on the project by not keeping her thinking clear as she tried to come up with a location that might entice the cowboys to show up for a photo shoot.
“Don’t take it out on me. I’m just the messenger.”
She slumped against the high padded seatback. “It’s not you. It’s me. I need to be on top of my game.”
“Maybe you just needed a sounding board.”
“Maybe? I’d say that’s exactly what I need, so thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“But I can still see you on top of the back seat of Celeste.”
He snorted as if he didn’t believe her. “So all the other guys are going to look like firefighters, but I’ll be lounging in a pink Cadillac. Are you trying to get me laughed out of the county?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. “Now that you mention it, maybe that’s not the best idea.” She drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. “But I want Celeste in the calendar.”
“I wish I wasn’t going to say this, but I could be washing your Caddy wearing—”
“Jeans, boots, and a firefighter helmet.”
“No shirt?”
“Never. And wet jeans ought to do it.”
He groaned, shaking his head. “If I ever needed drive-in snack food, it’s right this moment.”
“Big baby.” She smiled to take the sting from her words. “Remember, your sacrifice is for a good cause.”
“I’d better get a reward, too.”
She cocked her head to one side, giving him the once-over. “What kind?”
“The kind named Sydney.”
She felt heat swamp her at that statement, wanting to escape his lapis stare but wanting more to dive into its dark depths and find relief from the ache he’d ignited deep in her core.
“What about I take you to dinner?”
“Huh?” She struggled to get her mind back on business.
“Dinner. We’ve both got to eat, don’t we?”
“If it’s a reward, then I should be taking you to dinner.”
; He grinned, revealing his slightly crooked front tooth. “That’d work, too.”
“Okay. I do owe you for the engine repair, as well as your help.”
“I’m glad to know volunteers get rewards.”
“I guess that means I should get a reward, too,” she teased with a lilt to her voice.
“You name it, you got it—so long as it’s named Dune.”
She couldn’t keep from laughing at his verbal antics. “Think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.”
She laughed harder. “We have so gotten off track.”
“My fault.” He put a large hand over his heart. “Want me to make amends?”
“Let’s not go there.”
“My offer’s always open.”
“If you don’t mind, let’s stick to figuring out how I’m going to get this calendar completed, printed, collated, and distributed in about a month, or sooner if at all possible. It’s got to be available for sale at all the local stores and events during Christmas in the Country and Christmas at Sure-Shot Drive-In, or we might as well forget it.”
“Okay, that’s what we’ll shoot for. You didn’t get the guys lined up, right?”
“I keep trying, but as you well know, they’ve been cagey. Fortunately, a graphic designer has already completed the calendar layout. Nathan at Thingamajigs is waiting for me to slug in photos so he can start production.”
“Did the cowboys really bail on you at Thanksgiving?”
She rolled her eyes as she sighed out loud. “I’ll never be able to prove it, but a downed fence that let out a herd of cattle onto Wildcat Road from Wildcat Ranch was downright suspicious.”
“I guess you’re thinking somebody cut the wire and drove out a herd just so the firefighters would have to leave your photo shoot, leap in their trucks, and hightail it to the road to round up the cattle.”
“That’s the long and short of it. They left me standing in the station’s parking lot with nobody to photograph.”
“It was the talk of the town.”
“Yeah. Maybe most folks laughed their heads off, but I was frustrated as all get-out.” She drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. “And it wasn’t the first time somebody messed up my photo shoot. You may not have heard this, but Kent’s camera disappeared another time when I had them all ready to go.”
“I hadn’t heard it. I guess they found his camera later.”
“Oh yes, but not until everybody had gone every which way but Sunday. I tore the station apart and found it hidden under a pile of towels.”
“What makes you think the next photo shoot will work out?”
“It’s got to.” She smiled at him, feeling renewed hope just in his presence. “You’re my ace in the hole.”
“I’ll give it my best shot.”
“If you let those ornery cowboys know you’re my new Mr. December, maybe they’ll finally stand still long enough for photos.”
“I’m not sure how much they’ll listen to me, but—”
“I truly believe Jim Bob left the county to get out of posing for Mr. December. I’m not sure, but I think he may have even put his ranch up for sale.”
Dune laughed, shaking his head.
“Not funny. And with that bull-riding body—those broad, muscular shoulders—he’d have been perfect.”
“Okay. I’ll do my best. Maybe I’d better ask Hedy for help. Nobody wants to get in trouble with her any more than they do with Morning Glory.”
“I was trying to leave Hedy out of this since she’s so busy with Christmas in the Country, but time is fast running out.”
“Kent’s onboard to photograph, isn’t he?”
“Yes. That is, if he doesn’t disappear to Alaska or someplace.” She picked up her phone and made a few notes. “You’re right about locale. Let’s plan to meet at the new fire station.”
“Think we can shoot everything in one day?”
“We’ve got to.” She set her cell back down and twirled it around in a circle as she thought about logistics. “Our timeline will depend on their work schedules, but we can’t get started too early, because everybody will be taking care of animals.”
“We can still get going pretty early.”
“True.” She picked up her cell again. “Let me see if I can get hold of Hedy and start that ball rolling.” When he nodded in agreement, she hit speed dial for her friend.
“Sydney, I’ve been thinking about you,” Hedy said when she answered her phone.
“Good things, right?”
“Always.”
“Dune and I are at the drive-in. We’ve been discussing the best way to handle the photo shoot.”
“Dune?” Hedy’s voice slid up an octave. “I didn’t know the two of you were—”
“He volunteered to help out. That’s all.”
Dune grinned at her. “That’s not all.”
“What’d he say?” Hedy asked.
“Nothing.” Sydney rolled her eyes at him. “Could we set up a schedule for the day after tomorrow at the main station? I’m hoping Kent can get all the photographs we need in one day.”
“We can surely try.”
“Dune’s going to stop by and talk with you about how to light a fire under those cowboys so they’ll actually let Kent take their photos.”
Hedy gave a bark of laughter. “They’ve been running you a merry race, haven’t they?”
“Tell me about it,” Sydney said.
“Dune and I will work out something. We’re not going to let this opportunity for a fire station fund-raiser slip through our fingers.”
“Thanks.”
“By the way, what do you think of the drive-in?”
“It’s wonderful. Bert and Bert Two have made it a showplace.”
“That’s what Bert said when he stopped by the store to buy another Bluebird of Happiness.”
Sydney smiled at the news. “Bert sure has a passion for glass bluebirds—or for the lady who sells them.”
“Oh, go on now.” Hedy gave a husky laugh. “Still, I guess one of these days, I’m just going to have to go to his home and see his bluebird collection. He’s been asking forever.”
“Like since high school?”
Hedy laughed harder. “I don’t think he had any bluebirds back then.”
“I bet not.” Sydney laughed with her. “I wish you’d take pity on the guy and go see his collection.”
“It’s Christmastime, so maybe he’ll get his wish.”
“There you go,” Sydney agreed. “But back to the calendar. You’ll be there for the shoot, won’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Hedy cleared her throat. “Now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do at the drive-in.”
“Nothing but a little jitterbug.”
“Glad to hear those lessons are paying off.”
“Sure are.”
“See you later,” Hedy said.
“What was that all about?” Dune asked.
“Hedy said she’ll help you get the guys wrangled for the photo shoot.” Sydney set down her phone, sighing at the fact that everybody in Wildcat Bluff was always trying to get her interested in a cowboy to heal her broken heart. She had no doubt that by the time they got back to town, word would have spread about Dune’s volunteer work, and it would go well beyond a calendar and a holiday event.
“Is Bert really sweet on Hedy?”
“Far as I know, he’s been trying to get her to go out with him since high school.”
“Now that’s persistence.”
“That’s Bert.”
Dune reached out and squeezed Sydney’s hand. “I’m hoping persistence pays off.”
She smiled as she squeezed his hand in response, noticing the strength, the calluses
, the short nails that all spoke of a hard-working cowboy. “I’ll tell you what—”
She was interrupted by Slade’s ringtone on her phone. She grabbed her cell, feeling a little spurt of concern because he was with Storm at the ranch. Her daughter was nothing if not wild. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Storm’s riding her four-wheeler like a maniac,” Slade said. “She won’t listen to me. Mom and Granny are down at the café taking care of business, so they’re not here to rein her in. You’d better get home and lay down the law.”
“She’s not hurt, is she?”
“No. But there’s something in her today that reminds me of when I took that tumble off a bad bull. You just got a drive that won’t let you quit.”
“Please keep her safe. I’ll be home as quick as I can.”
“Will do,” Slade agreed. “Bye.”
Sydney looked into Dune’s sympathetic gaze. “I need to go.”
“What’s the trouble? Can I help?”
“No, not really.” She stood up, feeling surprised that she wanted to lean—even for just a moment—on Dune’s big, broad, strong shoulders. “It’s Storm. I suspect she’s thinking about her daddy. She’s been too quiet ever since his birthday a few days ago.”
“She misses him,” Dune said flatly as he got to his feet.
“Emery was an Army Ranger.” Sydney felt sick at the heartbreak of her child and the fact that she couldn’t do a blessed thing about it. “And she thinks she’s a chip off the old block. She’s been wild—dangerously so—since we got the news that he wouldn’t be coming home.”
“How are you handling it?”
“I’m keeping her busy. She talks to a counselor. She’s winning at rodeo events. But she appears to feel no fear about anything. That alone scares me.”
“I don’t blame you, but she’s got a strong support system with her family and Wildcat Bluff.”
“True. I just hope it’s enough.”
“Come on. Let’s get you home and see what’s going on.”
She searched Dune’s face, seeing concern that touched her grieving heart. “You don’t need to go with me.”
“I’ll follow you.” He stepped close to her, invading her space as if to emphasize his point. “There’s no way I’ll let you drive that distance alone, not with so much worry on your mind.”